Travel
A journey through the land of fire and ice, complete with lava flows, steaming hot springs and Icelandic folk tales
“Be prepared for the volcano to erupt at any minute,” says our local guide. “You’ll know if the siren goes off.”
We’ve just arrived at Blue Lagoon, a famous geothermal spa located in southwestern Iceland after a 45-minute drive along rugged grey lava roads. Gurgling from 2000 metres below the Earth’s surface, Blue Lagoon is situated in a lava field making it rich in algae and salt. But just five kilometres away is the Sundhnúkur volcano, where spontaneous bouts of spewing lava are not an unusual occurrence.
It is day one of our summer cruise on Viking Saturn and we have just arrived from Iceland’s capital, Reykjavik. I can feel the warmth rising from the lagoon and can’t wait to float in its milky blue therapeutic water and slather my face in silica (a constituent compound of lava). However, now that the thought of an evacuation is on my mind, the concept of red-hot lava is a bit of a mood killer.
It’s a sobering reminder of the violent beauty that exists across this 39,768 square-mile island, where crime is low and the standard of living is high. And even though Iceland has been named the safest country in the world for 14 years in a row by the Global Peace Index, citizens still have to be vigilant for avalanches, mudslides, and earthquakes – not to mention volcanic eruptions.
Appropriately located in the Iceland Sea, a small body of water at the top of the North Atlantic, Iceland contains 269 named glaciers that make up about 11 per cent of the land area. The Nordic island nation also sits above a hot spot, which makes the country prone to volcanic activity. Simultaneously, Iceland is also situated above the continental rift that pulls apart North American and Eurasian tectonic plates. This means that it is spitting out lava with frightening regularity.
On this Blue Lagoon visit, I am lucky enough to dodge lava bombs and float undisturbed, (the original lagoon was formed after an accidental overflow from the adjacent geothermal plant). However, only two days after our visit, streams of molten rock lit up the night sky from a four-kilometre fissure at Sundhnúkur. The Blue Lagoon was closed and the nearby town of Grindavik was evacuated.
After lying dormant in the Reykjanes peninsula for about 800 years, Sundhnúkur awoke in December 2023. The eruption from the Svartsengi volcanic system was the sixth in nine months.
Dr. Mike Bowman, a geologist and resident expert aboard Viking Saturn, explains that volcanic eruptions occur when the pressure of the magma chamber that sits in the Earth’s mantle exceeds the capacity of the Earth to hold it in—like a pimple bursting.
“Volcanoes can alter the course of history,” says Bowman. “They give us fantastic scenery. But they also cause temporary climate change, impact political change, lead to plagues and even impact culture and religion.”
Icelanders take these challenges in stride – and I follow their lead. The weather in August is unpredictable, so I don a woollen hat, a waterproof shell and hiking boots on shore excursions, ready for anything.
There is, however, a benefit to having 30 active volcanoes in your backyard: cheap geothermal energy. Every town in Iceland has public outdoor naturally heated swimming pools called sundlaugs that foster a national love of bathing and, I am told, drive up the national happiness index. They certainly make life more enjoyable in summer; I can only imagine the benefit during the dark days of winter.
With just 380,000 people, Iceland is the most sparsely populated country in Europe. Even with a recent increase in tourism, once you leave the capital, it is easy to feel like you are in the middle of nowhere. If you crave solitude, stunning vistas, geysers, fjords, waterfalls and friendly people with a wry sense of humour, this is your destination.
About 60 per cent of Icelanders live in Reyjavik, a bustling port city filled with bars, bookstores, gorgeous architecture, the Iceland Symphony Orchestra, and not to mention, gorgeous mountain views.
The city feels like a European capital on the main thoroughfare of Laugavegur (a popular long-distance hiking trail), with leather-clad hipsters sipping coffee in arty cafes. But upon further inspection, another kind of tourist emerges: hikers, decked out in various versions of high-tech gear. They clamour down the street for a view of Hallgrimskirkja, a towering church named after the famous Icelandic poet Hallgrimur Petursson that resembles the landscape’s lava flows. A majestic statue of Leif Erickson, aka “Leif the Lucky”, stands with his back to the church, an homage to this Norse explorer who first set foot on continental America in 1001.
Vikings, who landed here in the 9th century, are an important part of Iceland’s history. I traipse to the western edge of the harbour to visit the Saga Museum, located in a former fish storehouse. Life-like wax models of medieval characters in all their gory glory stare down at me. There is Erik the Red, the first European to set foot on Greenland, and Freydis, the sister of Leif who is depicted brandishing a sword against her bare breast. Also present is Sister Katrin, a nun who was found guilty of having sold her soul to the devil in 1343, and was burnt at the stake.
Dr. Fenella Bazin, an award-winning author and resident historian aboard Viking Saturn, tells us that the reputation of Vikings as rapists and pillagers is exaggerated. They did not have horns on their helmets. Yes, there were Viking raids. Yes, they plundered. Yes, they were fearsome.
“But they were also explorers who assimilated with local populations, innovators who brought steel and glass back from Persia [modern-day Iran], and navigators whose incredible long ships lasted for more than three centuries,” said Dr. Bazin. The Viking era officially ended in 1066, when they were defeated in Britain, but you can still feel their presence.
Isafjordur, which means “Ice Fjord” in Icelandic, is so remote that the country’s ring road (the main route that circles Iceland) doesn’t come here. Located on an L-shaped sandspit 30 nautical miles from the Arctic Circle, it is hemmed in on all sides by a stunning 75-km long fjord.
Majestic views made it a natural location for Game of Thrones. It is also the largest settlement in the western Fjords, with 2,100 inhabitants, craft stores, art galleries, schools and even a small university.
Near the harbour is one of the country’s most celebrated restaurants, Tjoruhusio (no menu – just ask for the daily catch). Next to it, I drop into the delightful Westfjords Heritage Museum and marvel at the fishing and ship exhibits from whaling days. I purchase Elves and Hidden People, Icelandic folk tales based on Jon Arnason’s collection, curious to understand why elves and the hidden people are such a big thing here.
“My grandmother showed me how to tell which rocks have elves living behind them and which don’t,” the cashier tells me. “Traditionally, believing in elves was a way to cope with the harsh landscape.”
The book forward informs readers that conceiving nature as “alive” comes naturally to Icelanders. “An enemy as well as a provider”, the book states, with green pastures and rough seas, beauty and hardships. The hidden people are an embodiment of the landscape.
I walk through the town past the old hospital, which is now a library, and head to the highest street and the mountains beyond, passing several avalanche barriers. I am delighted to find a forest in the hills with a mossy floor, wildflowers and craggy boulders. I look closely and can make out gnarled faces in the rocks. Suddenly, they are everywhere. Have I become an elf-seer?
On our stop in northern Iceland’s main hub, Akureyri, it is pelting rain and the temperature is near zero, but not even the weather can’t dampen my enthusiasm. We’ve arrived at the bottom of Eyjafjordur, a 60-km-long fjord surrounded by towering mountains and admire the beautiful surroundings.
We leave Akureyri by bus to explore the Lake Myvatn region, formed as a result of an eruption more than 2,300 years ago when hot lava flowed over the wetlands. The interaction between the lava and the water resulted in steam explosions, which created what geologists call pseudocraters that are so rare they have been declared a national protected monument. They look like real volcanic craters but don’t have a vent from which lava has erupted – hence the word pseudo. Some are grassy hills, emerald green and gorgeous to look at, while others have volcanic bowl imprints. The lava also blocked the natural drainage, creating a beautiful lake that is rich in flora and fauna.
Our first stop is at Goðafoss waterfall, named for a pagan who threw statues of pagan gods into the waters following his conversion to Christianity in 1000 AD. The ice-blue glacial waters cascade over a semi-circular arc, falling in swirls 100 feet into an aqua-marine picturesque pool surrounded by fields of lava below.
We carry on to the Myvatn volcanic lake area, and I am awestruck by the other-worldly landscape of Namafjall Hverir. These gigantic lava craters spew out steam infused with sulphur that smells like rotten eggs. You can get up close to these boiling mud pools – but be warned, do not touch the rocks as they are very hot. The scene resembles a pock-marked moonscape with spots of brightly coloured clay. I could spend hours listening to the hissing and bubbling of the earth, taking in its strange energy and beauty.
Then there is Dimmuborgir, a dramatic rock area created by a lava flow over a marsh that left curious formations resembling battlements and dungeons. In Icelandic culture, this area is believed to be a gateway to the hidden world, where supernatural beings reside. (The site also inspired Norwegian black metal band Dimmu Borgir and was featured on Game of Thrones where Mance Rayder, leader of the Free Folk, held his army.)
In the rocks, I can see trolls with their tongues out, monsters and ogres. Legend has it, the cannibal trolls, Gryla and her husband Leppaluoi, had 13 sons who morphed into the 13 “Icelandic Santa Clauses” over time, also known as the Yule Lads. Dozens of different names for the Yule Lads appear in different folk stories but a popular poem by Johannes ur Kotlum in 1932 solidified their identities as Spoon Licker, Sausage Swiper, Skyr Gobbler, Door Slammer, Cheep-Cote Clod, Gully Gawk, Stubby, Pot Scraper, Bowl Licker, Window Peeper, Door Sniffer, Meat Hook and Candle Beggar – named for their particular pranks.
Said to live in a cave in Dimmuborgir, they are mostly quiet in the summer. But come December, they spring to life, coming one by one into town during the 13 nights before Christmas to visit Iceland’s children and leave a gift if they’ve been good; if they’ve been naughty, the Yule Lads fill their shoes with rotten potatoes.
Seydisfjordur, in Eastern Iceland Fjords, is a striking village of fewer than 700 inhabitants. It is located at the end of a long fjord, surrounded by steep mountains with creeks running down them. The town’s brightly painted wooden houses are a beautifully preserved reminder of an earlier era, while a rainbow adorns the sidewalk leading up to the town’s blue church – Iceland has been a leader in LGBTQ rights.
I join a hike led by a guide named Olaf (all Icelanders only use their first name), five kilometres from town, up the fjord. We pass stony boulders covered in heather, berries and reindeer moss, and one waterfall after another, as we follow the Vestdalsa River across the tundra. “It is a bit cold today even for Iceland,” says Olaf, who resembles a Saga character, with strawberry blonde hair, broad shoulders and a laconic air. “The ground is wet and you can’t avoid it. You will get wet.”
Olaf, who is the Director of the nearby Sklaness Nature Reserve, regales us with stories of Icelandic history and the arrival of the Vikings.
Free-roaming sheep looking for berries and greylag geese are our only companions. The country has more sheep than people and every fall, farmers round up their flocks from summer grazing grounds to their winter pastures. Our trail has no ropes, barriers or fellow climbers. We take in the blissful solitude, listen to the sound of water burbling, and say thanks for another tranquil Icelandic afternoon.
Viking Saturn, a 745-foot, 930-passenger ship launched in 2023. For four days, we sailed around Iceland before heading east to the Faroe Islands, and then on to Norway during this 14-day journey. The small-ship’s elegant minimalist all-veranda design makes it the perfect platform to visit these remote places once trodden by the Vikings. Unlike the Vikings, however, guests can unwind and recalibrate after a long day of adventure in cozy leather armchairs with fur throws and then relax in the ship’s extensive Scandinavian spa.
Learn more about Viking Saturn at: https://www.vikingcruisescanada.com/oceans/ships/viking-saturn.html
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